Choose Your Own Romance
by Stor-E-Phool
Summary: Ever just not been able to decide which fanfiction to read because you couldn't decide which character you wanted to be paired with the lead? Problem solved: Choose Your Own Romance. Wow- 3,000 hits! Thanks, guys! COMPLETE!
1. Page 1

Choose Your Own Romance

_**A/N: Ever just not been able to decide which fanfiction to read because you couldn't decide which character you wanted to be paired with the lead? Problem solved: Choose Your Own Romance.**_

_**At the end of each "page" you will come to either a "choice", a "default", or "The End", proceeded by the page number your Romance continues on. There are a variety of pairings and stories to choose from, not to mention a few fatal endings, so make each decision wisely! Joyful days and happy readings!**_

_**Love, **_

_**Stor-E-Phool **_

_**(pg. 1) **_The sunbeams streaking in through the holes in the shutters were warm as they poured onto my woolen covers, and I yawned. The birds chirped in the trees outside as I pushed my blankets off to the foot of my bed to escape their toasty confines. I swing my bare feet out of bed and onto the rough wooden floor and take in another long yawn, stretching my arms as far above and behind me as I could, then let them fall at my sides. Strands of my wild red hair poked in at the fringes of my vision and I yawned.

"Good morning," I told myself with a crackly morning voice, and I grabbed a drink from the glass of water on my nightstand. I tried my voice again, "Good morning," and it sounded more clear. My lips twitched into a vague smile and I pulled myself to my feet to begin tackling my hair with the comb.

Today had potential. I could feel it from the tips of my toes to the crown of my head: if I decided to make it so, today could be the single most amazing day of my life. On the other hand, that also meant that this day may very well turn out horrendously: it all depended on me and my decisions.

As I chewed on this thought, I gave my wiry, red hair a final tug and moved to my wardrobe as I shed my white, lacey night gown. Opening the pine wood doors, I find fresh clothes from Mother awaiting me, and I hurriedly adorn them, feeling the soft leather armor fit snugly over my midsection and chest. I could already hear the clanging of pans and smell the aroma of eggs wafting up from the kitchens. People would already be finding their seats for breakfast in the Mess Hall, and... and _he _would be there.

As I finished my morning rituals, feeling peppy and bright, I stopped by my jewlry box to drip a single drop of lily scent on my wrist, just in case I got the opportunity to see _him_ today. Rubbing my wrists together, the hybrid smell of bacon and lilies hitting my nose, I dash out the door of my tower and down the cobblestone steps to arrive in the Royal Garden. The birds and the bees were in the air, in more than one way, the plants were a splendid green color, and I cut through the center of the garden to get to the Mess Hall sooner.

The people of Kippernium Castle were already chattering away, waiting for the little raven-haired cook, Pepper, to arrive with pans full of eggs, meat and toast. I scanned the Mess Hall for an adequate place to sit, and there were only two seats open...

_**A. Hmm... Sir Ivon is closest to the food... ...(pg. 2)**_

_**B. Oh, no! Patrol with Dragon! I forgot! ...(pg. 3)**_

_**C. I'll sit with my friends! ...(pg. 4)**_


	2. Page 2

Choose Your Own Romance

**_(pg. 2) _**Surveying my options and making note to appologize to Dragon about the patrol, I finally decided on sitting with my instructors at the center table. Sir Ivon was currently piling his plate with bacon and sausage, and Sir Theodore was sitting on the other side of him with a few slices of fresh bread and some eggs. I approached the table, standing a little away from Sir Ivon and the prospective seat.

"Good morning, Sirs Theodore and Ivon," I said, bowing slightly to each man in respect, "Is anyone sitting here?" The bolbous Scott looked up, a bit of bacon poking out from under his crimson mustache, and furrowed his brow, shrugging roughly and mumbling through his mouthful of meat. I looked hesitantly at Sir Theodore, and he nodded.

"Have a seat, Squire," Sir Theodore told me, patting the table, humour at Sir Ivon's response sparkling in his eyes, "We were just talking about the weather like the old men that we are,"

At that comment, Sir Ivon swallowed his mouthful, and shook the sausage he was working on at the older Knight, annoyance apparent on his face.

"I, for one, am _no' _an _ol' man!_" He said, and turned to Jane, "'old' is when you can do nothing but knit and play chess all day. Talkin' 'bout the weather is _no'_ old! _I _am _no' _old!" I turned my eyes from Sir Ivon to Sir Theodore as the Irishman went on about the definition of "old". The older Knight's thin lips were crooked into a sly smile, proud of the rant he had begun in his younger friend's mouth.

As I looked on at my instructor, tuning Sir Ivon out, he gestured over to the redheaded man and mouthed the word "denial" to me. I felt my stomach spasm with laughter, and I put my hand to my lips to hide my mirth.

"...so you see, Scotts _ne'er_ get old in reality. An' _tha's_ my final word on the matter!"

"I thought you were Irish, my friend,"

"Irish? Look at meh'!" with a shove, the pudgy knight stood to display his physique. He gestured to himself, a smug look played to Sir Theodore, "You see? Regal stature, crimson locks and a hearty demeanor. Scotch: through and through!"

"Hm. Indeed, you are!" The hoary master knight brought a knuckle to his mouth, seeming to be contemplative, but I spotted the upturned-corners of his mustache. He was covering up his laughter!

I took this time to observe my ancient instructor's face, as his focus was elsewhere. his grey and white hair was long and coarse, reaching past his shoulders, and was pushed back from his face: out of the way. It was a stylish way for a man to wear it: far from Roman, but somehow radiating an aire of refinement. Around his smokey grey eyes were moon-shaped smile lines, which bowed up gracefully, revealing a life filled with joys. Around his mouth and grey mustache were frown lines, molding around his protruding chin, and drooping to various places on his face. I allowed my eyes to follow the paths and contours of the knight's wrinkled face for a while, as he was still paying attention to Sir Ivon's rant. However, I soon found the intense, stormy-grey gaze journeying from the Scottman to meet my stare.

Instead of looking away, I smiled to him brightly, as I was already caught in the act of staring, and his mouth tweeked upward a little underneath his mustache. I turned my eyes from Sir Theodore to Sir Ivon as he stood beside me, describing the differences between a Scott and an Irishman, but my attention was still on the gaze that I could still feel on me from across the table.

"...And _tha'_ is why I don't like green, but orange. You see, the color has to do with which part o' Ireland you're in, an' Scottland is closer to the ora-"

"-Breakfast, anyone?" Rang a chipper voice from our left, and I turned to look at the blessed, raven-haired cook, Pepper, carrying a pan of eggs and bacon. Smiles plastered over our faces, my instructors and I gladly grabbed plates full of the meal...

**_A. Energy seems to rip through the air ...(pg. 5)_**

**_B. Mmm... food! ...(pg. 6)_**

**_C I can't seem to take my eyes from Sir Theodore! 3 ...(pg. 7)_**


	3. Page 3

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 3)**_

I turned and hurried away, toward the castle's front gates. I had promised to meet Dragon atop the mount in the early morning for a quick patrol... I'd be late now. I always looked forward to my alone time with Dragon, just us two up in the sky, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, so maybe he would not be too upset that I was late in meeting him.

With a speed unnatural for even me, I ran for the mountain cavern, up the well-trodden trail and over ill-placed stones in the middle of the path. Within a record of about ten minutes I hiked the final pace, landing with heavy breaths at the flat of the cliff. My breath heaved in and out of my chest desparately, causing wheezes to escape from my throat.

"It's about _time_, Ms. Snail." came that sarcastic voice I had come to know so well, "I was beginning to think you might have forgotten or something." The scale-clad beast emerged from the dank cavern where he had apparantly been waiting and looked me eye to eye as I caught my breath, humour glinting in his big amber eyes.

"I am terribly sorry I kept you waiting, Dragon," I appologized, "I will make it up to you."

"No worries, Shortlife. I'm pretty good at waiting." He told me with a toothy grin, and I laughed.

"Oh, _are_ you?" I said, backing teasingly down the trail to the castle, "Then you would not mind waiting for me if I went back down and finished breakfast before we patrol?"

"No such luck for you, Coppertop!" the reptile said as he scooped me up onto his neck and into the air, "I am patient, but not _that_ patient!"

I laughed, feeling the muscles of the dragon beneath me tense as he pumped his wings powerfully, climbing the gusts of wind mightily and mounting into the open blue sky. My stomach tossed and fluttered gaily with the freedom which relinquished into one's heart when in flight. The green, flat ground below, and the problems thereof, was about as far as it could be, and the only noise that met my ears was that of the row of Dragon's wings. We were free. We could go anywhere, do anything...

"I love you, you big lizard." I stated to him, leaning forward on his neck, avoiding his back tines, to encircle my arms about him tightly.

"Gaack!" he wheezed in response, and I released him, realizing my embrace had choked him.

"Sorry!" I said, patting his scaly head, and he laughed, his wings re-angling in order to compensate for a gust of wind.

"Shortlives. So _emotional_... so _sappy_!" He said teasingly, making mock with a roll of his eyes, but then pausing, something appearing to catch his eye far below in the forest. A look of confusion passed over his face. "Jane," he said seriously, "do you see _that_?" I followed his line of vision to see... nothing. It was a sea of endless green to me.

"What, trees? A leaf?"

"A tower. In the middle of that valley, you see?" My eyes scanned over the terrain and finally fell upon a section of forrest where there was a shallow dip in the trees that outlined a small river valley no larger than the training yard back at Kippernia Castle. In the center of the valley was the long, thin outline of an old, crumbling watchtower. The burgundy shingles of the roof were missing in places, and the stones were overgrown with climbing ivy.

"I've never seen that before in my life, Dragon." I said, straightening my back.

"Me neither. Should we go check it out?"

**_, Dragon. Indeed we should! ...(pg. 10)_**

**_B. No; the tower has been here too long to be suspicious, and I want breakfast ...(pg. 4)_**

**_C. What is that noise? ...(pg. 11)_**


	4. Page 4

Choose Your Own Romance

**_(pg._**_**__**4)**_ _**_****I glanced over toward the front of the Mess Hall, where both Rake and Smithy were sitting, being served by Pepper, who was standing near. With an outlet of breath, I left the place I was to join the trio. However, just as I neared about ten feet away, I witnessed Pepper's expression shifted into a pout, brow becoming stern. Though I could not make out the conversation, I heard the voices raise, as if in anger, and Smithy stood frusteratedly, walking away toward the Royal Gardens with face sullen.

Pepper turned to Rake, and more words were exchanged. Suddenly, she turned on her heel to serve Sirs Ivon and Theodore their eggs. Rake, who was now alone, stood awkwardly and wandered toward the pillars that let out into the hall. He leaned back on it, and looked at nothing but his mud-caked boots.

I pinched my brow in concern. What had the conversation been about? I didn't think that anything could break Pepper and Rake from eachother's presence. And Smithy had never shown so much emotion on his face before. Fixing a determined frown on my face, I decided to fix my friends' fellowship, plucking a crimson rose from a centerpiece on the table next to me.

The flower had been freshly plucked this morning, so drops of dew still clung to the lips of the pedals, and the fragrance was still strong and heady. Smirking, I waited an adequate amount of time, then approached the ill-mooded cook, who was banging bacon and flinging french toast on plates.

"Um, Pepper?" I asked timidly, and her piercing gaze shot itself toward me. She stood stiffly.

"What is it, Jane?" she snapped, and I held the glistening rose toward her.

"He said he was sorry." I told her, and her gaze widened, moving toward the two boys. I saw the indecision on her face, then she looked back to me. Clearing her throat, she took the flower gratefully.

"Um, who is this from?" she asked hesitantly, and I grinned.

**_A. "Why, it's from Rake!" ...(pg. 16)_**

**_B. "Ehrm... he said he was a 'secret' admirer?" ...(pg. 17)_**


	5. Page 5

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 5) **_Suddenly, as Pepper was spooning the eggs into our plates, I felt something like lightening zing through the air. The wind seemed to pick up, swirling 'round about the Mess Hall, and the sky outside began to change.

I cast an urgent glance toward my instructor, and an understanding passed between us: something was coming. Sir Theodore leaped from his seat and stomped loudly up onto the table, showing no care for the dishes that went clattering down to the cobble floor.

"Women and children to the dungeons, where it is safe!" He bellowed, a gruff authority in his usually gentle voice. Screams were beginning in the village outside the castle walls: caterwauls and shouts. Sir Ivon and Sir Theodore dashed outside to the garden, and I followed. The sky had turned a crimson red: red like blood. A black, swirling cloud fell over the morning sun, turning it black, and a fierce roar ripped through the air, rumbling the ground and rattling the windows of the castle with its power.

My gaze shot to meet the eastern horizon, and I realized that the dark cloud which had fallen across the sun moved strangely: writhing, almost... swarming?

"Sir Theodore, look!" I shouted over the howling wind, pointing at the cloud as its shadow cast itself over the trees of Kippernia Forrest. The elderly knight's eyes widened in shock, then immediately melted into fear. He turned to me.

"Squire, fetch my sword." he commanded, and I gulped.

"The... _the_ sword?" I chirped, and the look in my teacher's eyes told me all I needed to know. "Y... yessir!" With that command, I took off at a sprint for the Knight Barracks, red hair whipping my face violently. Past the smithy and up the stairs I went, and then, throwing open the heavy wooden door, I burst into the room, where a still-sleeping Gunther lay curled in his bed.

Upon my arrival, the older boy lept from his cot with surprise. I trotted to Sir Theodore's footchest and threw the lid open to search the contents for my master's Dragon Sword.

"Jane Turnkey!" the other squire yelled furiously, "What is the meaning of this tress-" Finally, I found the weapon and turned on him.

"Gunther, grab your armour and protect the women and children in the dungeon." I ordered, grabbing the buckler on the wall from its peg and shoving it roughly into his chest, "And hurry about it: something is coming!"

Leaving the wide-eyed barely-clad lad, I ran for the gardens, where Sir Theodore still was, shouting orders as the men and boys ran about, fulfilling them. I collapsed on my knees and held the sword's hilt out for my master. He took it immediately and his eyes, though steely with experience, still held that fear in their depths.

"Jane, call your dragon friend. We will need him."

I nodded, and trotted away again, this time for my tower. I had to get high enough for him to hear the summons. I vaulted up the crumbling stair and came to the spot in the bole of the tower that had thick, strong vines shrubbing the side. With a firm grip on the trunk of the vine, I shimmied my way up the wall, wind whipping my crimson hair into my face with each foothold. Finally, I stepped onto the coarse shingles of the roof of my tower, and glanced at the village below: roaring with an unnatural fire. The heat of the blaze made the air writhe above the treeline, and the horrified screams of the people were heavy in my ears.

"Dragon, we need you!" I called to the open air, and unlatched the finely-crafted handle from the hilt of my sword. Immediately, as the harsh wind blew through the mechanism, it began to whistle. I let it dangle on it's chain like a tassle as I lifted it high over my head to begin swinging. I circled my arm around and the handle's unsteady toots became a solid whistle, flying powerfully through the air.

As soon as the handle had sounded, the powerful roar ripped through the morning once again, and I nearly leaped in fright. Another fire began on the trees of the eastern horizon, more screams came up.

I continued to move my arm until I felt my shoulder become tense and ache. It was just as a third fire began that I heard the flapping of wings. Smiling, I looked up to see our hero in the sky, but there was no green in sight. All I could see was... black.

Black

****...?****

The giant form of a scaly beast crashed into Kippernia Castle's wall, causing an earthquake-like motion to shudder throughout the entire fortress. The beast had a narrow head and a long, muscular neck. The black flanks of the monster rippled with power, it's wings sleek, like new snake skin. A pair of red eyes met my green eyes, and a scream broke through in my ears. I realized it might be mine.

"Dragon!" I called, not sure whether it was an exclamation of surprise, or if I was calling for my friend's help. "Dragon, dragon!"

The black beast's narrow head craned, and it unlatched its jaws to allow the quaking roar billow from its throat once again. I immediately dropped my dragonblade to slam my hands to the sides of my head as the harsh scream reached my ears. I found myself collapsing to my knees with the force of the sound, and I peered helplessly up at the black dragon towering above me. In her eyes was a steely, intelligent glint, and something told me that Dragon wouldn't be coming to our rescue.

"No!" I cried, and dove for the dragonblade, which was teetering on the edge of the roof. Clutching it in my hand so tight that my knuckles turned white, I stood to my full height and looked the dragon full in the face. "Where is Dragon?" I called, voice cracking with fear and heart hardening with the determination I had inherited from my grandfather.

The dragon's eyes flashed, and I heard three deep clicks coming from deep inside the beast's throat, like a cat's purr, but harsher and more abrupt. Eye's widening, I turned and made a mad dash from where I stood on the tower to the cobblstone floor, eight feet below, just as the wall of flame gushed from the maw of the creature. I felt the heat singe the hairs on the back of my neck and smelled burning hair.

"Aack!" I called as my feet hit the ground and my whole body felt the jar echo from my legs and up into my already sore shoulders. My face contorted in pain and darkness began to fold in at the edge of my vision, but I shook my head clear and crouched in phetal position for a moment to steel my swimming mind.

Above me I heard the sound of a clinking throat, and immediately dodged to my left, landing on my knees, as another bout of fire assailed to the spot where I had been not a moment before. I glanced helplessly up at the darkened red sky, praying for a glimpse of green scales to meet my eyes. There was nothing but black clouds as the world around me enfolded in flames. The fire licked around the stone walls, turning them black with ash, and writhed in the forest like a band of gypsies dancing to the music that was the people's screams in the village below.

"Dragon," I gasped as I hefted my weight back onto my legs and turned to check the position of the black beast. The dragon was still positioned behind the tower, looming over watchfully, like an eagle sizing up its prey. I gripped my sword a little tighter and swallowed. "I need you."

As the fire bloomed around me, swirling like demonic lilies, I dashed for the place in the crumbling, fire-blackened castle that used to be the Royal gardens. Under Pig's Arch and past the kitchens I ran, dodging past burning barrels and barrows, and finally I arrived at what had been a lush, green garden not an hour previous. Before me was a tossing inferno, all I could see was red as it burned hot on the foliage.

Another roar gouged itself through the dark morning, and I quickened my pace, heart hammering its cage wildly.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no...

Finally, as I heard the clicks begin again directly behind me, I whipped around, my sword flying into something hard. Opening my eyes which had been clinched closed with fear, I realized that I had hit my target.

The black dragon reared up on its haunches to roar as blood gushed from the rupture on its snout, and my heart steeled with a sudden boldness.

"_Raaaaahhhhh!_" I shouted, and charged its soft underbelly, which had been left wide open due to the dragon's position. The white saber injected itself through the black, shining scales and into the dragon's stomach, which immediately clinched so hard in response to the intrusion that the hilt was jerked harshly from my grasp.

With a weak roar from loss of blood from its two deep wounds, the black beast began to sway faintly, and my eyes widened as I found myself in a poor spot as she gave a final weak sway forward to fall on her front. I was positioned directly in front of her!

As the wall of black scales tipped forward, I realized there would be no time for escape, and I felt my body roll into a ball that would do little good for protection against a ten-ton mass of muscle and hide's crushing weight.

And just like that, the great Jane the Dragon-Rider became the late Jane the Dragon-Slayer.

**_The End!_**

**_A/N: Aaack! What a disaster! You got a "Bad Ending"! Go back and choose something else!_**

**_However, before you do that, what did you think of the story you chose? Did it all flow together pretty seamlessly? Was my writing interesting? If this were a book you were holding in your hands, would you have kept flipping pages? Tell me honestly: writers should write well, and you could help me be a Charles Dickens!_**

**_Love,_**

**_Stor-E-Phool_**


	6. Page 6

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 6) **_As soon as my plate was in front of me, my back automatically straightened and I took my white handkercheif to my lap, spreading it neatly over my orange and yellow checkered legs, just as I remembered my mother teaching me long ago, before I had even known how to read.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Sir Theodore's eyebrows rise with surprise, apparantly having witnessed my display of uncharacteristic lady-likeness. I carefully made sure not to meet his gaze as I flashed Pepper a smile as she began to serve others in the Mess Hall.

"Thank you so much for all the food, Pepper! It looks delicious!" I told the frazzled cook, and she turned to give me an acknowledging nod and curtsy, then hurried on her way fulfilling orders. Still aware of the smoky grey eyes trained on me, I began to reach for a glass, keeping my eyes downcast, lest our gazes meet and my face visibly heat.

"Allow me, Jane." my instructor told me as he swiped the cup I was reaching for and filled it with the pitcher of water. As he handed it back to me, I took the glass gently and couldn't ignore the fact that our fingers brushed. With his gauntlets off, I could see how thin and white his fingers were. I marvelled at how he could weild a sword so firmly with such aged hands.

"Thank you, Sir Theodore," I inserted weakly, head feeling light with a slight adreneline rush, "That was very kind of you." I watched as he filled his own glass, then I brought the tin cylinder to my lips to take a short sip. The metal from the cup tainted the good flavor of the eggs and bacon with a metallic tang. As I still had the cup at my lips, I watched as the man across from me shifted his weight so that he was sitting erectly on the wooden bench instead of in the casual slouch I was used to seeing him in.

"So, Jane, what do you think about the current situation between China and Spain?" he asked in a voice that seemed to be asking something entirely different than what he had actually asked. I stared at him with widened eyes, jaw slightly aslack. He had never asked me something like that before. I sat up a little straighter and cleared my throat a little.

"Actually, I find it quite interesting," I replied, all of the facts and rumours swirling in my mind as I began to explain how the treatise had clearly stated that the merchantmen had not needed the outdated logs, and that china's claims were obviously false. With every word I spoke, something seemed to be decided in my instructor's mind, and soon he interjected with inqiries to make me question myself, and inserting a few opinions of his own here and there.

The conversation soon expanded to include Greek and Roman poetry, Jewish prophecy, and religious beliefs. Upon hearing his long salvation testimony, I gave him my own and the conversation shifted to other things, such as the proper grooming of a horse and the best way to achieve a checkmate.

Soon we began to chuckle as we realized that Sir Ivon had fallen asleep on his plate as he had been trying to follow our banter, and his crimson mustache was now flecked with little yellow crumbs of egg. I pinched the corners of my mouth down, trying not to smile, and my eyes met Sir Theodore's yet again. He was gazing at me, a luminous glint in his eye.

After a long while of silence and steady eye contact, Sir Theodore cleared his throat.

"I am afraid I am about to ask you a particularly personal inquiry, Jane," He told me, and I smiled.

"As you wish, Sir." I replied, straightening. What could be much more personal than we had already been discussing that morning? Not much. As I waited for the Knight to ask me this mysterious question, I watched him intently, surveying his face and behaviours with utmost care. A twitch of his white-speckled mustache, the breeze softly tousling his grey mane, the slight pink color coming to his ears...

Finally the old knight let out an amused chuckle and asked, "What do you think about Gunther?"

_**A. Well... ...(pg. 8)**_

_**B The hair on the back of my neck raises ...(pg. 9)**_


	7. Page 7

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 7) **_As I allowed my plate to clank softly down on the table in front of me, my gaze never left the face of my instructor. He did not seem to take note of this, and began, in that very reserved manner of his, to eat his meal. I watched as he lifted his tin drinking glass to his lips, then I had to fling my hand to my mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter.

As the cup came away from his mouth, it was highly noticeable that the cream-like substance of the milk had clung to the hair of his lip, transforming his fine, groomed mustache from a refined salt-and-pepper grey to a shade of purest, unavoidable white.

"Haa-!" I laughed, then quenched myself by clamping my mouth shut. However, my stomach still quaked with unshed glee and I began to giggle. My giggles began to escalate into chuckles, then chortles, then finally they escaped my mouth in the laughter I had tried so hard to fetter.

My instructor, across from me, had witnessed the transformation of my giggles into such a boistrous outburst, and, as my laughter evolved into snortling, the old gentleman discovered what I was so tickled at. With a characteristic poise, the old knight unsheathed a white handkercheif from the sleeve of his breastplate and gracefully swiped the white from his lip, and it was as if it had not been there at all.

"Jane," he stated dourly, "it looks like a seat has just opened up over at the children's table. I'm sure that you and your friends have brand of humour in common." His eyebrows were up curtly, and he looked cross and annoyed. My snortles immediately died, and I realized the whole Mess Hall was staring at us because of my outburst.

"O-oh. Yessir." I said, and nodded as I stood to join Gunther and the others...

**_-default-sit with the boys for breakfast... ...(pg. 4)_**


	8. Page 8

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 8)**_

The corners of my mouth flew upward and I chuckled a little.

"Why, Sir, I believe you just used the name 'Gunther' and the word 'think' in the same sentence. I applaud you; I honestly did not believe it possible." I replied gravely, eyes sparkling with humour as I looked up at him. Had he been so mature, even in his youth?

Sir Theodore's eyebrows shot up at my unexpected response, an expression, I was beginning to percieve, which only emerged when he was taken off guard. Soon he masked his expression and a twinkle developed in his eye.

"Indeed," he smiled from underneath his grey mustache, smokey grey eyes seeming deeper than they had seemed before. I cleared my throat a little.

"Are you familiar with Epaphroditus?" I asked in a slightly shakey voice, the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My instructor stood, the clank of his armour so soft I barely noticed the sound, and looked contemplatively at me. His eyes steeled with some decision whose turmoil had just been put to rest. Taking a breath, he began to quote,

"_If t'wer twilight,_

t'wouldn't be day

t'wouldn't be night" He said, translating from the Greek on the spot. He paused, a question in his eye: a question only I could answer for him. I took a deep breath and set his mind at ease with a stanza further down in Ephaphroditus' epic.

"_If t'wer merely I,_

Or t'wer merely you,

T'wouldn't be us." I breathed, mind whirring to translate the message as quickly as he had. I inhaled deeply, praying I had read his signals correctly, like he had taught me to in training. I gazed at him quizzically, and a small smile of confidence passed over his wrinkled features.

"My dear, you know your Greek poetry rather well." he stated, coming to my side of the table. I could not stop myself from staring at him. "It seems your intellect indeed matches your beauty in greatness." With that, he gently took my hand in his own and brought it lightly to his lips, grey mustache just brushing my skin, and I was suddenly very glad I had dripped lilly scent on my wrists before leaving my room.

Just as quickly as the exchange had transpired, it was over and Sir Theodore was gone. I stood there in the now-empty Mess Hall, feeling as light as a feather, and the thought that I could not wait for training tomorrow crossed my mind as the lingering tickle of his mustache tingled on my hand.

**_The End!_**

**_A/N: I have but one thing to say for this ending! "Eeeew." Awkward couple! SO weird to write!_**

**_But how did you like it? Did it give you indigestion, or did you think it was... cute...? :/_**


	9. Page 9

Choose Your Own Romance

**_(pg. 9) _**Before I could answer, the commotion on the table full of teens behind me began to heighten, and I felt the hair on my neck and all down my back stand on end.

"Jane, watch out!" Jester's high-pitched voice screeched from across the hall, and I swerved around in response. The face of Gunther met my eyes, pinched in fury and staring insanely at me, coming toward me at an alarming rate.

"Gunth-!" I began, but was cut off by a crippling pain that hit my gut. Eyes nearly popping out of my skull with shock, I drove my gaze down to see the hilt of a knife protruding from my abdomen. I felt my face slacken with surprise.

A knife.

A knife?

A _knife_...

"Gunthe..." I squeezed out of my throat as my vision began to go black. I was aware of the fact that my head had bounced as it smacked the ground, but the only thing I could focus on was the pain in my stomach and the hate which had glowed in my friend's amber eyes...

I did not even get to tell him I love him.

**_The End!_**

**_A/N: EEEEERRRRRR! Bad ending! Go back and try again! Maybe something better will happen._**

**_Aw, poor Jane. Why do you think Gunther flipped out like that? Why do you think Sir Theodore happened to inquire about Jane's feelings for Gunther just as something like this happened? And, honestly, where WAS Sir Ivon while all of this happened?_**

**_..._**

**_Why're you looking at ME for answers? YOU'RE the reader: post your guess in a review! :D_**


	10. Page 10

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 10)**_

Dragon angled his wings to take us down. The light from the sun glinted off of his reflective scales, sparkling prettily as we began to tip in the air. I felt his body repositioning underneath me in order to plunge us through a thin layer of trees which was covering a clearing near the building in question. My stomach twisted as my dragon lowered his head, body becoming more aerodynamically angled with every tensed muscle, and I pressed my torso and legs as close to his body mass as I could get, bracing for our landing.

"Heeere weeee goooooo!" Dragon called. The sea of trees swam violently as the reptile beneath me began to corkskrew: plunging through the air. My stomach protested with a ferocious quake of vertigo. I felt my arms begin to weaken due to the oncoming nausea, and panic gripped my heart at the thought of loosing my hold on the lizard's neck.

"Dragon, _noooo_!" I caterwauled, but the mass of green grew larger and larger in my vision still. Finally, my world only consisted of emerald leaves and brown trunks as we finally dove beneath the surface of the trees. Twigs, sharp as daggers, tore at my face as we whipped by them, leaving doubtlessly harsh cuts on my cheeks and forehead.

Finally, as the reptile shouted one last landing warning, I felt the jar of touching down. Clumps of grass and foliage confettied around us as he dug his claws into the earth of the clearing. As our forward motion was brought to a halt, my entire torso slammed itself into the back of Dragon's neck and my face was pressed firmly into his scales.

"_Perfect landing_." The beast's voice rumbled in my ears as I felt it vibrate through his body with my cheek, and I peeled myself from him with effort. Every inch of me stung, and I was sure, with the force of the halt, my face was covered with a scale pattern from the pressure with which I had been pressed to the back of his neck. "Jane," he said excitedly, "that landing was _perfect! _Did you see?"

"Yes, Dragon. It was _perfect_." I assured him, dragging my legs to his left side in order to dismount. I slid off of his massive shoulders and scratched behind his golden horn; directly on top of one of his "Spots". As I scrubbed my hand across those constantly itchy scales, a happy burst of air was puffed out of his snout-as if he were a horse who had just been presented a sugar cube.

"Ohhhhh..." He moaned, and his head leaned into me to help me reach, "Right there, Shortlife!"

I laughed and gave him a pat. "Well? Are you ready to check out this mysterious tower?" The beast turned his head and winked at me. The light, filtered by the shadows of the leaves, glinted faintly off of the scales of the ridges of his eyes and off of his nose, making him almost look heroic. I grinned up at my friend, pushing my crimson hair out of my face, and found myself winking back. "Then let us carry on, you overgrown alligator!"

The clearing was small-only about twenty feet across, just large enough to be a suitable landingpad-and covered in grass and weeds. Except for two long, muddy streaks which had been gouged by our entrance, the ground was green, and large patches of sun shone down through the canopy to allow the growth. It was the sort of place one should like to bring a picnic some lovely day of Spring.

Adjascent to the cheery patch of sun and grass, only about three yards to the East of it, loomed the tall, ancient tower. Around the bole of the crumbling structure jutted thorny brush and sharp weeds from the fallow ground. Boulders and rocks were strewn in about the dark, wooden entrance, and a foreboding aura seemed to surround the place. The tower seemed much larger underneath the canopy of trees than it had from above, stretching at least thirty feet into the air, the rotton supports inside creaking with each burst of wind.

"Does... does it seem to lean a bit to the left to you, Dragon?" I inquired nervously, trying to still the anxiety quickly rising in my stomach.

"No... In fact, it is veering to the right, I think." He replied. I looked up at his face, and he glanced down at mine. With a gulp from each of us and a cautious determination, we stepped toward the door.

The drawbridge-style door was a puzzling factor: for there was neither moat, nor river, nor any other source of water nearby for which one might build a tower with a drawbride for a door. To add to the peculiarity of the door, nailed into the dark, sturdy wood was a massive iron knocker, ornately crafted into a serpentine, chinese dragon. I shivered: it was as if the tower had been transported from another time and place...

I glanced up at Dragon, who had been studying the door as well and seemed steeped in thought. The ridges above his eyes were pinched and his brow seemed dark. His scaly mouth was pinned in a thoughtful frown. We stood in silence for a moment, then finally he took hold of the knocker and slammed it against the wooden door. Each knock seemed to reverberate through the tower like a gong. With every bang of the iron knocker, birds and bats were wakened and vacated their places in the tower's roof, and finally, after what had to be the tenth knock, Dragon stopped, and we just listened.

Nothing but silence met our ears for what felt like an eternity, and I glanced at the beast. "Dragon, I-"

"_Shhhh_." he told me, one claw brought to his lips. I do not believe I had ever seen him so serious... was it something in the air, or...?

Finally, I heard it. It started off as a small creak, then it quickly transformed into a low groan as the massive door began to lurch forward. Suddenly, I felt claws clutching my middle, and a wave of motion tossed my stomach wildly. Dragon now had me in his claws, haunches thumping the ground awkwardly as the four-legged beast ran away from the door's landing on two legs. There was a simultaneous groan and crash as the drawbridge fell away from the tower's entrance, and I glanced at the now-agape structure.

"It is... it is _open_?" I said, moving my eyes to the reptiles maw hovering above me, close enough that I could touch. "It opened at a knock. That means..."

"It means that someone... something... answered." He said gravely and I nodded, determination hardening in my gut.

"Let us see who it is whom we have dropped in on today."

We, again, neared the entrance, as Dragon's chivalry had drawn us quite a distance away. I stepped up onto the dark wood of the drawbridge, half-expectant of it to pop right back up and take me with it alone into the dark confines of the tower, but as I stood there, nothing happened and we surged forward. The tower's dark, open door was gaped like the hungry mouth of a wild hog, the two columns of stone framing the entrance like ivory tusks poking up out of the earth.

I took a breath. The smell of dust and mildew decorated the air and even as I stared intently into the tower, I could make nothing out in the thick wall of pure darkness. Not an outline of a stair way, nor the glint of an eye. With one nervous glance at Dragon, he puffed a stream of fire into the blackness, revealing a ceiling full of sleeping bats. With a single high-pitched screech, all of the creatures were wakened, and the bright sun was clouded by the flock of blood-suckers.

I let out a shout and covered my head, aware that my reptilian friend was looking on, quite amused at my reaction. I only peeked up at him from my arms as I could not hear another screech of the wicked creatures, and was shocked to see his golden eyes sparkling with humour at my childish flinch. A deep chuckle was echoing from his great breast, and my face was surely shading as dark a red as my locks.

"I was not frightened," I assured him, jabbing my elbow into his nearby flank, and his chuckle only became louder.

"Oh, I didn't think you were," he answered. I jabbed him again, and recieved a poke underneath my ribs in return. At the sensation, my reflexes instantly made me shrink away from his claws and let out a laugh. Grinning like a juggler, the overgrown lizard began a barrage of tickle-torture, ushering more laughter from me.

"Dragon! This is serious!" I told him, giggling girlishly as his continuous stream of pokes brought me down to the ground. He only ignored my protests and continued making me laugh, until I could not contain myself. "Dragon-_snortle_-Dragon, you big-_ha, ha!_-Really now!-_snort_!-Dragon,-_giggle_-stop! Do not-ha ha!-_Stop_!"

"What? What was that?" He asked loudly, "'Do NOT stop', you say?"

"Dragon, really!" I said, throwing up my hands to his attacking claws to hold him back from my sides, and his claw stopped for a moment. I took in a relieved sigh and smiled up at him from my position on my back, hair splayed across the wood of the door to the tower. "We must finish searching the tower before we goof off!" The beast rolled his eyes and lifted me to my feet.

"Party-pooper." He mumbled and pretended to pout. I grinned at him. He could break the tension in any situation, always ready with a joke, even in potentially mortal danger.

"I love you, you big softie." I told him, and his frown broke into a silly grin that matched my own. "Do you think you could shed a little light for us?" With a nod of his head and a flick of his tail, the lizard breathed out a bout of hot flame whose tendrils of fire swirled about in the darkness, causing the entire place to glow with its light.

I gasped at the room; it was not as I had expected it to be. Instead of cobb web and dust caked on toppled furniture and splintered wood, the room was tidy and nearly empty. A glance around revealed a room of stone floors and wooden ceilings with ancient supports lining the walls. The windows were high above, covered with wooden shutters and boarded up, preventing all light from entering. On the walls were torches, waiting to be lit, and ancient paintings with ornate frames. My eyes journeyed to the center of the room, where the stone floor mounted up to create a small platform, on top of which sat a small, black metal chest about the size of a jewelry box. Dragon's breath came to an end, and we were again set to darkness.

"Did you see that, Jane?" He asked, and suddenly the room was filled with light again as he began to light the torches along the walls with one fell swoop of his fire. The firelight flickered on the staffs, and Dragon began to take a step toward the platform.

**_A."Stop, Dragon!" ...(pg. 12)_**

**_B. I wonder what's inside. ...(pg. 13)_**


	11. Page 11

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 11)**_

Suddenly a strange, familiar sound met my ears, and I dove further back on Dragon's reptilian back, between his pumping wings.

"Jane?" He asked, trying to crane his neck to see what I was doing, and I laid down, suctioning myself to his back as something whoosed past his head, just glancing his golden horn. With a thunk, the arrow rebounded and landed in front of me. "Ow!" he called, frusterated, "What was that?"

I grabbed the wooden dowel of the weapon and threaded it point-down through my belt for later inspection, then cupped my hand to my mouth.

"Fly home, Lizard Lips! We are under fire!" I called, and then I felt a striking pain through my shoulder and chest. "Raaawg!" I screamed.

"Jane? Jane!" I heard my friend call, but he could do nothing for me: we were in the air, and I was on the back of an awkwardly built dragon. Try as he might, he would not be able to secure me to his back should I faint and loosen my grip.

"I am... alright, Dragon." I assured him, blackness closing in on my vision, "Just... just get _home_!"

"You better hold on tighter to me, Shortlife!" he told me, angling his wings to the East, toward both the sun and the castle, "As if your life depended on it."

I felt my grip loosen, and my heart began to pump faster with adreneline. My arms and legs weakened further, and I felt my torso slip further down Dragon's back. I tensed what I could of my legs, but the loss of blood was bad. I felt it running down the dragon's scales as I slipped, my lifeforce oozing away.

"Dragon..." I murmured as my weight slipped involutarily to the right and sliding completely into freefall, "...I loved you."

I died watching my friend fly away, unknowing in his haste to clear away from the danger that his cargo had been lost.

**_The End._**

**_A/N: Uh-oh! KO! Go back and try for a better ending!_**

**_But before you do that-tell me what you thought needed to change. What annoyed you as you read through? Did you feel the wind whipping through the air when flying with Dragon? Did your stomach get butterflies? Did you guess the ending, or was it surprising? Have you read something similar before? Let me know!_**

**_Love,_**

**_Stor-E-Phool_**


	12. Page 12

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 12)**_

"Wait, Dragon!" I cried, and he paused immediately. I took in a breath. "Now come back very slowly and carefully." With an alarmed cautiousness, my dragon backtracked himself until he was back at the doorway, and looked at me questioningly. I pointed to the floor around the chest, leading his sight.

"Do you see the holes and cracking stones there along the base of the platform? That means the floor is hollow underneath." I explained, "See how old and decayed the supports are here? Surely they are worse further down, in the threshingfloor. You might've fallen straight through!"

"I knew that," the reptile harumphed and flicked his tail agitatedly, "Yeah... I knew that. Just testing you. But what's with the box?"

"I am absolutely sure that it is none of _our_ business, but the _King's_." I told him, then turned toward the drawbridge of the tower to exit. "And he must be informed immediately after breakfast!"

With that, a mumbling Dragon and I made our way back to Kippernia Castle, where he soon departed to his own business, grumbling something about a lost treasure.

We had only been gone for about thirty minutes total, surprisingly enough, and everyone was still eating.

**_...(pg. 4)_**


	13. Page 13

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 13)**_

As the beast neared the platform, he reached out a trembling claw and touched the lock lightly, lifting it to see it better. Suddenly, I heard a click, and the bar of the lock slipped open without a key, and it fell with a clank to the stony surface of the platform. Dragon shot a glance back toward me, and I nodded my head, concenting for him to go on.

With much hesitation, the dragon finally flicked the lid open to reveal a single item set in the middle of a velvet, black cusion. The item was a violently violet diamond-cut jewel that seemed to swirl mezmorizingly with the light of the fires around us. It seemed to emit a soft, oozing glow, and it pulsed with a power that made my stomach seize with on-coming nausea.

"Jane, this out of the ordinary. Can you feel it?" the reptile asked with fascination, "I feel it in my scales... this is... this is..."

"It is magic." I confirmed, putting my arm to my stomach to prevent the feeling of further sickness which was beginning to overrride my senses. With yet another pang to my abdomen, I glanced up at Dragon. He was reaching forward for the jewel.

"...Dragon...?" I asked, voice quavering.

"Jane..." he said, looking over toward me with a twinkle in his eye, "This isn't just any magic. This little jewel... is the _Dragon's Eye_."

"The Dragon's Eye?" I asked, stomach spasming and causing me to lurch forward, clutching my middle on all fours, supporting myself with the crown of my head and my elbows. Dragon did not take note that I had fallen, for his eyes were still trained on the object, whole scaly green shape quivering with excitement and desire.

"The Dragon's Eye. It's the only dragon magic still in existence. It kills Shortlives on contact..." His throat made a wet sound as he swallowed and continued, "But... but if you're a dragon... it-it grants your wish." he clutched his breast, breath coming in and out unsteadily, "_My_ wish..." he whispered passionately.

His wish: to be with the other dragons. To leave the castle and me behind. My stomach spasmed and my arms collapsed beneath me. I tried to call out, but my throat would not make a sound, and my head hit the ground. I watched sideways as my bestfriend reached out to achieve his one and only dream, and I felt like a Boll Weevill: wishing we had never spotted the tower. Now I would surely lose my fondest friend to his dream, and I despised myself for being so selfish.

"Dragon..." I mouthed, for my voice was still fettered by the throes of magic in the place. I felt my energy being pulled from my pores with each pulse of dragon magic throughout the room. Panic was welling in my heart. I was completely and utterly useless. I could do nothing to help myself, and unless Dragon's fascination with the wicked object in his claw ceased soon, I would not survive to witness another sunrise...

"Jane, I..." he began, still not looking at me, "I know what I wish for." he muttered, and suddenly there was a flash of light that filled the room, brighter than any dragon fire on Earth. Immediately the pain in my gut released, and my energy came flooding back. The power of the stone had been used up for the moment, and I regained my strength.

However, though my limbs were again sprightly, my heart was still as heavy as when the crystal wielded its power over me. His wish was fulfilled. I would, quite possibly, never see the lizard again. Eyes beginning to brim with tears of dread, I stood shakily.

"Dragon?" I called into the darkness, sadness filling my heart when there was no answer back to me. I glanced about the almost-black, dim room. I could not see his large mass anywhere at all. The stone now rested back in its place in the metal box on the pedistal, eery light and violet hew gone with dragon, leaving behind what looked to be a simple diamond resting on the black cushion. However, I knew of its evils, and would not be fooled. The glinting crystal held death in its facets: death of Shortlives, death of friendships... and death of hope. What could I do without my _bestfriend_? I thought we'd be together... _forever_.

"Oh, Dragon!" I gasped like a fish out of water, tears in my voice. I sunk to the floor with my sobs, this time not under the power of the Dragon's Eye, but under the power of grief. "Oh, Dragon!" The place was silent except for the cries of my anguish.

I would miss him. Oh, would I miss him. Would he ever come visit me? Would he make new friends? How would we get along without eachother? He had so become such an integral part of my life, and I had been his... right? Would I ever see the shadow of his passing on the training ground again? Would I be able to call him Lizard Lips ever again, and he call me...

"Coppertop?" called a voice above me, and I lept to my feet, eyes wide and back straight. His voice! His voice! I heard it!

"Is that you, Dragon?" I cried, eyes flitting about the room rapidly. I saw nothing. I saw nothing! Why did I not see him? "Dragon, the torches are out. Lend me your fire!"

"The door is here, Jane." His voice called, and I followed it. I could not see him, but I could trust his voice. He was back. I did not lose him!

Finally, I saw the light of the door and followed after it. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear your voice, Dragon. I thought I had lost you forever!" I exited the castle, heart light as a feather at having my friend back, and as the sun hit my clothes, warming me after the damp cold of the tower, I smiled brightly.

"You'll never lose me, Shortlife," He said, and suddenly I felt a pair of strong, bare arms circle around my arms and chest in a tight squeeze. My mouth immediately hinged open in a scream, and I broke free of the embrace to kick the tall, blonde man to the ground and unsheith my sword to point at him. The man blinked up at me, brownish-bronze eyes reflecting the light of the sun shining in through the canopy of trees. I held my sword steadily at his neck, and tried not to notice his lack of clothing. My eyes trained to his devilishly-grinning face.

"Who-?"

"Scared you, didn't I!" said Dragon's voice from out of the bare gentleman's throat, "I scared Jane Turnkey." My voice refused to work, my mind whirring. Who was this man? Where was Dragon? What was happening? Why was I so frightened when _I _had the sword?

"_Who_ are _you_?" I snarled finally, putting on a brave face and touching the sword to his bobbing Adam's apple. The man grinned a wider, more mischevious grin and modestly folded his legs over his nakedness.

"Who _am I_?" he laughed, "_Who _am _I_?" He guided the tip of my sword away from himself and stood, jutting his thumb into his chest. "I am only the most rugged, handsome, and charming creature in the land. Not only that, but..." With a swift, smooth sweep of his arm and play of his hand, the man caught the sword out of my hand and tossed it haphazardly away from us. He drew nearer to me, and I was extremely aware of his lack of dress. He put his face close to mine, cold, narrow nose glancing mine with its tip, and I was aware of my face feeling warm. "...I am _your bestfriend_!"

The whites of the man's eyes sparkled, and his brownish bronze iris'-almost an amber color, the both of them-were thin with hyperactivity. His brow was larger than most people's and slanted forward, flowing into his thin nose. His whole face seemed to pull to a point, as if it could taper into a maw, and his jaw was squared. His silly grin still adorned his face as he looked at me.

"Let me say that again: _I am your bestfriend_!" he said, then his hand reached out, as if to touch my face. I jerked out of my stupor and away from the man, toward the green clearing where Dragon and I had touched down. I kept the stranger in my sight at all times: I did not wish to find him popping out at me from behind a tree.

"You are naked: that is what you are!" I told him, tracking into the clearing where the mud streaks from our landing were. I put the streaks between myself and the man, standing erect and ready for anything. The blonde stood with his feet shoulder-length apart, fists on his hips, and I averted my eyes from him.

"Dragons don't wear clothes, I'm afraid." He laughed, and I looked at him for what felt like the first time.

"_What_ did you just say?" I asked, and he shrugged with a smirk.

"Must I always repeat myself?"

"What did you _just say_!" I demanded, crossing the streaks of mud to look him straight in the eye as he spoke.

"I said that Dragons don't wear clothes." He murmured, pushing a little of his eye-length blonde bangs from his amber eyes, bottom lip poking out a little in a very familiar expression. I took a sharp inhalation of breath...

**_A. "Dragon!" ...(pg. 14)_**

**_B. "Dragon...?" ...(pg. 15)_**


	14. Page 14

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 14)**_

"Dragon!" I exclaimed at the man, and his pout transformed into that stupid grin of his. I looked him over. He was human. Completely human. "Oh, no. Oh, no no no..." I muttered, stopping to just stare at his peach-colored face. His skin was human, not a scale in sight. His tail had all but dissapated... his horns were kaput... and his fangs were gone.

"Oh, no. Oh, no no no..." I repeated to myself, shaking my head.

"What's this 'oh, no' about, ay?" He harumphed to me, crossing his arms about his chest and beginning to narrow his eyes at me.

"Dragon... You are a human, you realize?" I told him, slumping to the ground with distress.

"That's what I wished for, _isn't it_."

"You _wanted _this to happen?" I asked, head jerking up to look at him. His brows were lowered darkly, and his gestures became sharp and agitated with an oncoming fury.

"You _didn't_?"

"_Dragon_!" I yelled, and his jaw clamped shut and visibly clenched. "It is a _three day_ journey back to civilization on foot! We could not possibly survive!" I grasped his wrist and began pulling him back toward the tower, "Hurry! Change back!" he wrenched his arm from my hand, and backed away from me.

"I thought you'd be happy for me," he said, eyes shining at the edges and whites becoming slightly pink, swelling with the dampness about to fall. "I've been alone my whole life: the only one like me has only ever been myself. It's been my dream... to not be alone anymore. That's what I've always wanted, but do you care?" His eyes, now freely flowing with tears, scrutinized me, looking to my face for an answer. I could do nothing but gape up at him and his crying. I had never seen a grown man cry before.

"Dragon, you misunderstand. I-"

"No, Jane." He interrupted me, "I've been under the impression that I was a bit more to you than a _pack mule_ until now, but apparantly I've been sadly _mistaken_!" The blonde man turned on his heal and took off into the forrest suddenly, naked body sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness of the underbrush.

"Dragon!" I called after him, tears now springing up into my own eyes. "Dragon, stop!" but it was too late. I could no longer see his whitness amid the tree trunks, and so I blinked my stinging eyes, ignoring the wet warmth of the salty water on my cheeks. "Dragon! Dragon, please?" I cried, voice croaking.

Dragon... Oh, what have I done...?

**_The End!_**

**_A/N: Bum-ba-dummmmmmp! You got a bad ending! Go back and try again!_**

**_But! Before you do that, won't you tell me what you thought about the romance you chose? What would have worked better, do you think? Less description? Less dialogue? More action? Less? Let me know what you thought!_**

**_Love,_**

**_Stor-E-Phool_**


	15. Page 15

Choose Your Own Romance

**_(pg. 15)_**

"Dragon...?" I said, tilting my head to look straight at him, "Dragon, is that you...?" With a quivering left hand I reached up to touch his face, but then hesitated, drawing back. "Is that _really_you?" With his long human fingers he gently took me by the wrist and placed my open hand on his hollow cheek. His face was soft, like a new born baby's skin, and emitted that clean glow of the health of a child.

"It is me, Shortlife." he murmured in an uncharacteristicly tender voice, and as I relaxed my stiffened fingers to stroke from his forehead and down to his jaw in the shape of a half moon, he actually leaned into my hand: the way Dragon always had when I scratched his "Spot". My hand ran down his face again, then I brought my index finger to touch the crown of his brow. Gently I traced a straight line down his face to his chin, running down the length of the bridge of his nose and dipping in softly when it came to his lips. I felt his breath on my fingers as my hand lingered on the point of his chin.

"We... we are the same, Dragon." I told him, looking up into his amber eyes which shone with some kind of emotion. My eyes drifted to his right ear and began to follow the trail of his sillouette to his tensed neck, over to his muscled shoulder and down his arm and to his clenched fist. With my right hand still poised on his cheek, I reached with my left to lift his arm up by the wrist. As his fist was lifted about to my shoulder, his clenched fingers relaxed, and I ran my hand up the underside of his forearm into his hand, and we stood palm-to-palm.

"You have hands...!" I whispered, then intertwined my fingers with his. His whole body seemed to tense as I allowed my left hand to journey from his cheek and into his golden locks. Each strand was soft and felt smooth and clean. My hand journeyed through the thick mane and back toward his forehead, where I softly fingered his bangs. "...you have hair."

Suddenly, I felt fingers on my own face as he lifted the hand that was not occupied with my own to stroke straight across my freckled cheeks and nose. His eyes never left his hand as he brushed his thumb across my brow, across my cheek, and finally across my mouth. He lingered there, then brought his ember-like gaze to my emerald one.

"I have lips, too." he whispered, and leaned forward a little. My mind swirled dizzyingly and I didn't move as his lips hovered over mine for a moment. I felt his breath on my chin, and I realized he was waiting for me. With shakey breaths I tilted my head and my feet tip-toed in order to close the gap, and that was how we both lost our first kiss.

**_The End!_**

**_A/N: Whoooooo! Go, Jane! Goooo! :)_**

**_I realize that there are many who have bad feelings toward JxD. I realize this. I do!_**

**_...how are you feeling about it NOW? :D This scene is one I've been diing to write for... for ever since I saw the show! :)_**

**_Obviously, without some kind of magical intervention, the couple would be impossible and... well, gross... but add a little Dragon's Eye? ;) We've got ourselves a 'Ship!_**

**_Let me know how you felt about the Romance you chose! What could have made this story EVEN BETTER? Was there too much fluff? Were you able to picture the scene clearly in your mind, or was I too wordy? Let me know! :)_**

**_Love,_**

**_Stor-E-Phool_**


	16. Page 16

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 16)**_

"'Twas plucked by Rake, of course. Who else?" I told her, curtsying bouyantly, and her cheeks lighted pink, eyes shifting toward Smithy where he sat in the Royal Garden, then quickly returned to me, determination now in her gaze.

"Why, no one _but_ Rake!" she informed me, face now adorned in a shy smile; storminess from the arguement dissapated. She gazed over at the gardener as he leaned against the pillar near the tables, and I saw her shoulders quake with excitement. Briefly the two lovers' eyes met, and he bashfully ripped his gaze from hers, ears darkened with a blush.

Pepper brought her eyes back to me and squeezed my upper arm thankfully, much the same way that a mother might do to a child with whom she was pleased. She whispered a "thank you" with bated breath, then joined Rake to go for a stroll in the garden.

Now that I was alone, and still breakfastless, I took a glance about the room at the various people still at their tables eating. In the lower lefthand corner of the Mess Hall were my friends, Gunther and Jester, seeming to be arguing heatedly about something. They kept glancing over at me and gesturing wildly. I ripped my gaze from them to glance toward the Royal Gardens, where Smithy sat, pouting on the garden bench. He seeped an aire of melancholy as he watched Pepper and Rake circle the fountain together on their walk. Shaking my head, I decided that...

**_A. ...I have unfinished business back in my room. ...(pg. 18)_**

_**B. ...I dislike the fact the boys are talking about me behind my back! ...(pg. 19)**_

_**C. ...my friend needs someone to talk to! ...(pg. 20)**_


	17. Page 17

Choose Your Own Romance

**(pg. 17)**

Pepper's brown eyes shifted dreamily toward the blacksmith, who was still sulking on the garden bench, and she tightened her grip on the rose. She took the flower in deeply, and let the air out with a girlish sigh. Her brows creased and she looked at me with a frown.

"Jane, you know Rake and me... we were never meant for eachother." She squeezed my hand meaningfully, and looked in my eyes seriously. "_Another woman _entered the situation, and... and, well, so did another man." Her right thumb rubbed the stem of the rose she clutched, and her face reddened violently. "One cannot govern the affairs of the heart. Feelings... they just... they grow in strange places, and wilt in even stranger ones."

I tweeked a smile at her, mind whirring at her words, and pushed her playfully toward the garden. "You go get him, you vixen!" I laughed, and she obeyed with a small bout of giggling. I shook my head: Smithy and Pepper, of all oddities. I could see the blonde's appeal, what with the rippling muscles and the quiet manliness, but I had never figured him for Pepper.

That's right.

I thought bitterly, _Pepper has always had the heart of another..._

I glanced about the room, noting the bickering boys, Gunther and Jester, in the corner, pointing in my direction and shoving eachother. Then my eyes finally drifted toward the figure, leaning on the pillar at the side of the Mess Hall, looking sadly toward Pepper and Smithy as they began a lazy morning stroll through the gardens.

Taking in a breath, I...

**A. Decide to go comfort Rake ...(pg. 27)**

**B. Decide to see what Gunther and Jester are arguing about ...(pg. 19)**

**C. Thoughtfully put my hand to my sword hilt ...(pg. 28)**


	18. Page 18

Choose Your Own Romance

**(pg. 18)**

I turned to begin heading back to my tower stair but, as I did, the barrel of an armoured chest met my sight. I paused, shocked, for a moment at the proximity the man had to me, then I raised my eyes to see a familiar, wrinkled face. His mouth was pinched in a furious frown and his brow was bunched in honest outrage.

"Sir Theodore?" I asked, bewildered at his growl and glare, "Has something happened?"

Without a word, Sir Theodore snatched the satchel from my side and upturned the contents, all of which glittered and clanked to the ground. The blood drained from my face and I could do nothing but stare and gulp at the items that glinted gold and silver in the light of the sun. Items I had never touched before, but seen on the King's head and the Queens fingers and neck.

"The... the, the..." I croaked, tears springing to my eyes with dread, "...the Royal Jewels...!" I stared at them laying there on the ground and gulped over and over again, as if it would help my situation. How had they gotten there? Who had placed them?

Since when had I begun to carry a satchel...?

Suddenly Sir Theodore's rough hand closed around my arm tightly and heaved me to my feet.

"Jane Turnkey, you are a traitor to the crown of King Caradoc and are hereby sentenced to a death most painful." he told me gravely and looked at me with discust. He really believed I took them! He believed it...?

"Sir Theodore, I-" but I was not granted the opportunity to finish my sentence, for I felt a solid blow to the back of my head force my consiousness into utter blackness...**_To Be Continued in..._**

_**"Red"**_

_**- Coming soon!**_

_**A/N: Trailer- "Jane is framed for stealing the royal jewels! Who framed her? Why? The answers to these questions reveal more about Jane's past than she cares to know. Stay tuned and find out!"**_

_**Alright! Enough promotion! :) Did you enjoy the ending you chose, or will you go back and choose a different one?**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	19. Page 19

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 19)**_

With that thought, I turned toward the table and stomped toward the two, who were nudging eachother, brows lowered with agitation at one another. I came nearer to the squabbling boys and the commotion ceased as they realized my approach.

"Hello, Jester. Gunther." I acknowledged them, sitting down at the first empty plate as I began piling my plate with eggs.

"Good morning, Jane." Gunther said silkily, moving to sit next to me..._right_ next to me. I felt heat emanating off of my cheeks, and I scooted farther away from the young knight, but immediatly ran into the other boy as well, sitting by my other side.

"Good morning, Jane." he smiled, his floppy hat jingling a bit with each tilt of his head.

"Good morning, you two." I replied cautiously, reaching for a tin cup, but Jester caught it up for me.

"Would you prefer milk or juice?" he asked, and I stared confusedly up at him.

"Water." I told him, and he lept up to retrieve the pitcher. Gunther dashed to grab it first and lifted it high over his head, where Jester could not reach.

"_I_ will be the one pouring, _fool_!" He growled at the jokester, and Jester threw an impressive fist into his gut, catching the pitcher easily as Gunther's gut caved into itself.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" He called, and returned to me to tip the contents of the pitcher into my glass. Gunther stood and returned to the table.

"Would you prefer sausage or ham?" He inquired, and I shook my head.

"Just eggs, actually." With that, Gunther piled the fluffy yellow breakfast food onto my plate.

I began to take a bite of my meal, but stopped when I realized that the two men were just... _staring_ at me. I cleared my throat and put down my eating utensils, placing my elbow on the table and fist underneath my chin.

"Alright," I said, "Do you boys plan on telling me what is going on?"

Hesitantly, Gunther passed an amber glance toward Jester, and Jester shrugged. The two brought their gazes toward my own, and answered with a question posed in unison,

"Jane, what is your favorite color?"

**_A. Red, like HIS vest ...(pg. 21)_**

_**B. Blue, like HIS hat ...(pg. 22)**_

_**C. PURPLE! ...(pg. 23)**_


	20. Page 20

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 20)**_

Taking in a breath, I angled my pathway into the garden toward the blacksmith. He seemed to seep an aire of gloom as he propped his chin upon the handle of his longhammer and watched as Pepper and the gardener strolled about the royal garden's cobbled trail hand in hand, whispering secrets to one another and giggling.

I took in yet another breath. My heart felt as heavy as the anvil in the smithery, but I plopped down beside him anyway and watched the two as well. They journeyed in a strange, unpredictable pattern; taking paths through the garden no one ever walked, then stopping every once in a while to admire a patch of flowers. One time Rake even put one in her hair, and...

I risked a glance at Smithy, and was shocked to find that his gaze had shifted at some point from the cheery couple to rest on me. My face reddened and I curtained my wavy hair over my face, trying to escape those blue eyes, and looked away.

"No, wait, Jane." he told me, and he took my hair away from my cheeks, turning my face back toward him by gently grasping my chin. I didn't blink for fear of missing what he might do next. But he just looked at me, examining, calculating something in his head the way he did when he was about to handle a very delicate piece of metalwork in his shop, afraid that any wayward move might shatter it.

Finally, he looked away, a pinkness on the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. He seemed to shrink inside, all boldness I'd seen in him before seeping away in an instant. I was now extremely consious of my chin, where he'd touched me. I felt warm all over, especially in my face. It was as if all the blood in my body had surged upward when Smithy had looked away.

I didn't look away from him. His golden hair seemed to sparkle in the sunlight with every minute tilt of his head. His work clothes and leather apron were on already in preparation for today's worth of duty. The shirt was black and baggy, the apron stiff and bulky, but even under all of that, I saw the contours of his muscular blacksmith arms poking out from the smooth folds of fabric.

I shivered, something inside of me stirring, and ripped my eyes from him and at a small turn in the celtic designs ringing the base of the fountain in front of us. My stomach was doing flip-flops and my mind would not hold it's calm. I felt jumpy, like I couldn't stay still. I had the urge to leap up, to shout... but I bottled all of the energy in my thumping chest and red cheeks.

"Jane?" His voice began, and I looked at him again, at his eyes that matched the blue of the sky behind his head. His high cheekbones caught the light of the sun, the hollows of his cheeks seeming to deepen with the resulting shadow. His full concentration was on his words, and his nose was as red as a tendril of hair that was framing my vision. "Jane, I... I wanted to ask-"

Suddenly, my breath went out of me as a strong arm wrapped about my midsection and hoisted me to my feet. I felt a warm, muscled chest supporting my back, and smelled a man's work-sweat. The hands that held me so protectively were not Smithy's, but were clad in leather gloves. Anger errupted in my breast.

"Gunther!" I growled and tried to glare at his face, but couldn't see it from the position he had placed us in. All I could see was Smithy, eyes popping with surprise at the intrusion, seeming to shrink even further into his shell; like a turtle about to be souped. "Gunther, what are you-?"

"Hear me out, Jane." He demanded more than requested of me, and I grunted aquiesse. I felt his grasp on me loosen just enough so that he could turn me around in his arms. I glared up at him, not sure how to react to his close proximity to me, and stuck out my chin defiantly.

Gunther shifted to stand between Smithy and me, broad shoulders blocking the blacksmith from my view as he kneeled before me on a single knee, left hand grasping my wrist, the other fisted over his heart.

"Jane, I am in love with you." He told me, voice tense with the passion with which he spoke. My brain felt like it was wading through tar. Was this truely happening? Everything seemed to spin slowly around me, and memories of Gunther and me out on the training court surfaced in my mind. The rough language, the excessive physical contact, the insults always directed at Jester and Smithy, that cheeky smirk... it all made sense now. This is what all of that was?

"Gunther...?" I inquired timidly, and he thumped his chest with his fist, feeling glimmering in his eyes.

"Jane, I want you. More than anyone else, Jane." His leatherclad hand brought my fingers gingerly to his lips, and I went crazy. "Will you be mine?"

I must have been insane, because the next words out of my mouth were...

_**A. "Oh, yes, Gunther!" ...(pg. 24)**_

_**B. "You pig!" ...(pg. 25)**_

_**C. "What is that noise?" ...(pg. 26)**_


	21. Page 21

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 21)**_

"Well..." I muttered, glancing back and forth from the knight and the comedian, "Red is a very... _masculine_color, and... and I think that anyone who wears it is... is, well..."

"Masculine." Jester nearly whispered, then hung his head, "So... so you do not prefer... blue?"

I shook my head, not meeting my friend's eyes, but intensely aware of my enemy's gaze at my reddening face. "I am... I am afraid blue has... has never quite caught my attention the way that..." I allowed my gaze to drift up to Gunther's amber-brown eyes and stay connected with his disceifering stare. "...the way that _red _has."

The raven-haired man's mouth tilted to the side in a sly smirk, one that gave me chills, and he turned to glare at the bewildered juggler, who was still standing there, blinking back tears and clenching his jaw to keep back a wimper. I could not meet the blue-clad boy's eyes for all the courage in the kingdom.

"Jester, would you give me a moment with this fair lady here?" Gunther asked in a voice that was more demanding than questioning, and the gypsy's shoulders slumped and he sloughed his hat from his blonde head in defeat.

"Of course..." He muttered, and wandered off in search of his mandolin to craft a new, doubtlessly melancholy song. I sighed as he slunked off, but as the red-clad man in front of me turned his playful gaze to me, all my regret for rejecting the Fool became evanecent.

My heart fluttered and all I wanted to do was escape his gaze, but somehow still be in it. The desire to stay and the longing to flee somehow blended together in an emotion that swirled my stomach in ways it had never been twirled.

"So..." he said, offering a hand to me, "...I have a morning patrol down in the village."

"Would you be interested in a little back-up?" I heard myself ask in an almost pleading manner, and Gunther's smile made my throat clench up with nervous joy.

"Yeah," he told me, lifting my hand up to hover beneath his mouth, "I would enjoy that." With a deliberate slowness, he pressed his pair of warm lips to my freezing hand, and I felt a tremor rip through my body like an electric shock. "I would enjoy it thouroughly."

With that, he was gone and I was alone in the nearly empty couryard, but I was left with a delicious promise, tingling on my fingertips...

The End!

_**A/N: Yay! This is my first Gunther x Jane story... sort of. It is the hardest pairing to write, though there is so much material for it to work! Gunther is really hard for me to write... his character always turns out really OOC for me!**_

_**But tell me what you thought of him!**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	22. Page 22

Choose Your Own Romance

**(pg. 22)**

"I, uh, I think..." I glanced from the red vested knight and to the Blue-clad Jester and back again. My eyes closed for a moment, then I took in a deep breath. "Blue. Blue is _definately_my favorite color." I said, and awaited whatever would happen next.

"Blue." Gunther echoed in shock, ego visibly deflated with shock, "_Blue?_"

"Yes, blue, you over-grown parrot! 'B', 'L', 'U', 'E', in case you did not know how to spell it!" Jester announced chipperly, chest swelling in pride, "Blue: long considered a royal color, due to the dye's rarity and value! Blue! Blue!" the juggler's smile stretched from lobe-to-lobe, and he looked as if he were about to dance and leap for joy right there in the Mess Hall.

"I heard her, you insufferable Fool!" the squire snapped furociously, clenching his fists and puffing out his chest with his wounded pride, "I have a patrol! Good day!" With that, the raven-haired, green with envy knight stomped away, leaving an overjoyous Jester and me at the table.

"Look at him stomp," Jester smirked, "You would think he had lost a bet or something,"

I merely kept my eyes to my lap. How had my lips suddenly sealed themselves up? Why could I not stir up a response?

"Jane?" he asked, and I did not answer. He looked at me closely, and my face felt hot enough to sweat; even though midday was not yet even nigh. "Jane?"

I looked away from him, lips still clamped shut.

"Jane, look at me?" he requested, tugging gently at my hair, as my face was away from him. I shook my head negatively, and there was silence for a moment. I heard his steps begin to step over to see my face, and I looked the opposite way so that he still could not see me, though he had moved.

"Jane, look at me!" he demanded, and finally I obeyed. My face was hot, hot, _hot_ as my emerald eyes finally met his gray ones, and I realized that I had worried him, judging from the crease between his brows. Shame flooded my face, and I dropped my gaze to my lap.

I felt his cold fingers grasp my warm chin and he brought my gaze back to his, making my heart flutter. He ran the back of his icy forefinger up and down my feverish cheek, and he smiled softly at my insanely red blush.

"Jane, do you know my favorite color?" he asked tenderly, and I shook my head 'no'. He neared his face toward mine, and I did not move for fear of the dream ending. Just as I thought our lips would meet, he hovered. I felt like a horse in front of whom was dangled a sugar cube, the treat was so tempting to take. "Jane, do you know what my favorite color is?"

"What is your favorite color?" my voice croaked quietly, all of my focus on the moving of his lips, only inches from my own. I felt the outlet of his breath on my chin with his every word.

"You are." he whispered, and my brain did not even register that his answer made no sense whatsoever, because at that moment I retrieved my sugar cube.

It was the sweetest treat I had ever tasted.

The End.

_**A/N: O.o Jester! Forward, much? Well, this ending turned out far, FAR differently than I had originally planned! But what did you think of it? Was it okay? Were there any confusing bits? I'll bet there were.**_

_**I think this was... eh heh... not my best work... But what did you think?**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	23. Page 23

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 23)**_

"My favorite color has always been purple," I stated, and the boys glanced at eachother in surprise.

"I do not believe you understood the question, Jane." Gunther said, threading his thumb into his crimson vest, "We asked if your favorite colore was _red_..."

"...Or _blue_." Jester finished, plucking some imaginary dust from his shoulder and readjusting the cerulean hat on his head.

"I understood the question _perfectly_," I assured them, rolling my eyes and standing to leave, "I am looking for a perfect shade of color in between both red and blue... one that does not have the flamboyant tendencies of blue, nor the evanescent affections of red. I am looking for a... a shade of purple."

"Purple." Jester repeated, casting a disbelieving glance at Gunther, "She prefers purple."

"She does not know what she is missing," the knight shrugged, and pulled a crimson rose from the vase in the center of the table, handing it to me. Blushing, I took the flower, and accepted a peck on my hand from him. "Until she does, red will be awaiting her affections."

"Oh, no." the jokester said, and untied a blue fastening ribbon from his puzzle-piece patterned suit. "Blue is patient. Red's loyalty quickly fizzles." With a hurriedness, the jester quickly tied the fastener about my left wrist in a square bow and graced my cheek with his lips.

I shook my head. "'Red' and 'Blue' may wait an eternity for all I care: I await my 'Purple'!" I declared, face reddening. I turned and began to stomp away, rose and ribbon in hand.

Both 'Red' and 'Blue' had qualities I loved, but until 'Red' took a little from 'Blue', he could not become my 'Purple', and until 'Blue' took a few qualities from 'Red', _he_ could mot be my 'Purple'.

I stomped to my room and ripped the ribbon from my wrist and placed both it and the flower on my writing table. After a moment of gazing at the two, I tied the blue ribbon about the rose.

Purple.

I would wait.

The End!

_**A/N: Well, what did you think?**_

_**Who would be first to be willing to take up the qualities needed to be Purple, do you think-Gunther or Jester? I think Jester has too much pride in his artsy side to take any qualities from Gunther. He prides himself on his intelligence, not his macho side. And Gunther has a lot of pride in his physique, plus added pressures to focus less on intelligence at home...**_

_**Which one would be first willing to become Purple for Jane? Write about it! Don't even worry about a review: post a story about who would be Purple!**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	24. Page 24

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 24)**_

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask, you ... you big... you big _lummox_!" I told him, dropping to my knees, too, and embracing the knight. He towered above me about six inches, but I tilted my head and yanked on the collar of his armour until our lips met.

His lips were dry like mine, but the kiss was better than I'd ever imagined. If I'd known... If only I had known that he liked me back... I would have lost my first kiss eons ago!

I felt his big hands rest on the curve of my hip, and I rested mine on his stomach, feeling his crimson vest, fingering the silver studs sewn into the leather. As my hands drifted down from the vest and to the woolen tunic underneath, they came to rest, hanging innocently on to his belt buckle.

He broke the kiss and embraced me, enveloping me with his shoulders. All I could do was smell his musk as I struggled to breathe. I snaked my hands around to the back of his belt in order to embrace him, as well.

"I love you, Jane." I heard him say, his voice rumbling in his chest, and I rested my chin on his shoulder, squeezing the knight as tightly as I could. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Smithy was still there, his expression darker now than it had been when I had first approached him in the garden. His crystalline eyes were narrowed, and the silver shimmer under the shadow of his brow resembled shattered glass; sharp and broken.

Saying nothing, his gaze met mine, and an alien guilt filled my gut. Why did I feel this way? I had what I wanted, now. Who I needed. Gunther, of course!

"Smithy...?" I whispered, but with one last glare the blacksmith turned sharply toward his shack in the adjascent courtyard. His pace was brisk, but time seemed to slow for me as he went away. I loved Gunther. Gunther Breech. Smithy and I had barely even talked, though we were friends. Just a silent understanding between us two. Nothing more...!

But Gunther and I had something, right? Chemistry. I had to trust that my heart had it right... not go off on instinct all the time. My heart will never lead me wrong. Right?

Right?

Suddenly, Gunthers chest rumbled in... in something. Sobs? No.

Laughter.

"Ha ha ha haaa! I cannot believe I won!" He howled, breaking away from me, "Father was right: girls. Stupid. Gullible. Usable."

My face was red again, but this time with rage. I lept from my knees to stand, fists balled at my side.

"Gunther..." I croaked. _I will not cry, I will not cry, Knights do not cry!_ "...What are you talking about?"

He looked at my face and could not contain his laughter. "Oh, shut up, you miserable excuse for a woman. Your bleeding heart will heal in time... maybe." He smirked and tilted his head cockily. "My father and I had a bet: If I could break Jane Turnkey by noon, he would grant any favor I required."

My heart was crawling into my throat. "So... everything you _just said_..." _Oh, no. No, no._

He shrugged, resting his wrist on his sword's hilt, "...was a lie." He finished for me, "How could any one fall in love with such a shrimp as you? Please."

"You... you... I cannot believe I-"

"Oh, wait. I know how I can find out..." His face twisted into that cruel smile of his, "I'll simply ask the blacksmith!"

"Gunther, I trusted you...!" I screamed, "I... I loved..."

"Loved me?" He tossed his ebony hair behind his shoulder and his smile widened. "Difficult not to, I imagine."

"_RAAAAHHHHH!_" I screamed, unsheathing my DragonBlade and thrusting forward. Gunther's face contorted into surprise, then hardened as he drew his sword to deflect my attack.

"Well, now, testy, are we?" Our swords clanged loudly, much louder than they ever had in practice, and the vibrations echoed through my sword, making my hands ache and throb.

"Shut up!" I told him, furious tears blurring his face into a mess of color. He twisted his blade, and my sword wrenched from my grasp; clattering to the cobble near the fountain. My wrist burned with the pain of sprain, and I felt sharpened metal graze my throat, feeling like the razor my father trimmed his beard back with as it pressed.

I was bested.

"You are blinded by emotion, Turnkey." the victor whose lips had only moments before been on mine said, "Sparring rule number one: Never let your emotions control you."

"I have learned this lesson twice today, then!" I spat at him, shooting the ugliest glare I could muster at his face. That infuriating smirk spread across his stupid face again, and he sheathed his sword, making sure to leave the smallest scratch across my throat.

"Well, let your new scar remind you of what I have taught you each time you look in the mirror." He said, cackling. I did not take my eyes off of the wicked man until he disappeared into the confines of the castle, then I turned my gaze to my lap. I studied the metalic scales of my armoured skirt until they blurred with unshed tears.

Why did I not listen when my head told me not to believe it all? Why was I unsuspicious when my _arch enemy_ suddenly embraced me? Why did I not question when fortune suddenly fell into my lap?

A good knight is never controlled by feelings. A good knight lets duty, compassion and knowledge be his guide. A good knight does not seek what he can achieve for himself, but what he can accomplish for others.

Line upon line of the Knight's code ran through my head, and I found that I had in a moment crossed over each one. Had I not drawn blade in order to redeem my wounded pride? Was I driven to action by my master's will? By honor? By what I had been taught? No. Not at all.

Was I not acting in self-love instead of a desire to uplift another?

Yes, I broke each of these principles, and likely more, in my actions toward the one-time object of my affections. I was no better than Gunther, as horrible as he was. I had no justification for anything I had just done.

My stomach clenched painfully, and I dropped to my knees with nausea. If I was not a good knight, a knight of the light... what was I?

Bad. No good. A Dark Knight, right? A fallen Knight. A Knight without principle; without honour.

Swallowing back my guilt-induced nausea, I stood to my feet. I was not worthy to defend the noble crown, I decided. I was not worthy of honour or friends. I broke everything I stood for in an instant, and the weight of my guilt felt unbearable as it settled in my chest.

I neared the fountain and hefted my DragonBlade, which felt heavier now, and drifted toward the stables, where I mounted Shadow the mare. Steering her up the mountain seemed to take longer than it should have, and when we neared the top, where the echoing cave sat agape, I noted that Dragon was out, likely fawning over some hefer in the pastures.

I approached the stone that sat in the middle of the entrance to the cave, the one that Dragon always tripped and cussed over when he entered, and jammed the Dragon Blade through the rock to let it stand straight up out of the limestone. Around the hilt I wrapped the parchment containing each dragon rune we had discovered together in a simple, concise list.

No explaination, no destination. Just signed, _Jane_.

And with that, the heroine began her quest to rediscover and reclaim her lost honour... in the story chronicaling her adventure, "_The Dark Knight_".

...The End!

_**A/N: o.O; this is absolutely alien compared to what it was originally. Apparantly coming soon:**_

_**The Dark Knight! :D Joker played by Jester, love interest played by Smithy, Side kick Lavinia, Heroine Jane, and mentor/butler... Sir Theodore! lol jk! jk. Maybe. ;D**_

_**As usual, tell me what you thought. Thick? Thin? Too much fluff? Angst? Muscles? Not enough fighting, dialogue, plot structure? Do tell me what you thought!**_

_**P.S.: Trivia Bonus: "When you are suffering from Tyrotoxism, you are suffering from... what?"**_


	25. Page 25

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 25)**_

"You pig!" I snarled, wrenching my hand away from his leathery grasp and readying my hand to make searing contact with the man's cheek.

Just as I was about to let my attack fly, I heard the knight before me grunt and watched as he toppled over into his stomach.

Smithy towered over him, breathing hard, staring at his still-clenched fist. Gunther collapsed into himself to roll onto his side in pain, moaning. The blonde blacksmith drew his eyes from his tensed hand to my face, nose and ears becoming violently pink.

"I... I..." he stammered, loosening his fist and using it to scratch his head awkwardly, "I like you more than he does." He shifted from foot to foot, and we stood in silence for a moment. Finally, I stepped over the moaning knight and to Smithy, taking his calloused hand in mine and looking up into his crystalline eyes.

"I like you, too, Smithy." I said, and stood on my tip toes to press a kiss into his cheek.

When I pulled away, he just stood, looking red and sheepish. He seemed as if he didn't know exactly what to do with his hands or feet as he swayed from side-to-side, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. I gave him a soft smile, not sure what to do, either, and put my hand near his as an invitation.

I noticed as he looked down my arm and to my waiting fingers, and he hesitantly closed his hand around mine, as if it were a delicate piece of art in his workshop that might break. He moved slowly and gently, as if I were a robin that might fly off if startled, and I just stared at the collar of his black work tunic.

After a few precious, still moments, he tilted forward the slightest bit, and I felt a pair of soft, dry lips tenderly graze my forehead. He stayed for only a moment, but the feel of his stamp of affection remained for a long time after we said goodbye.

The End!

_**A/N: Soooo! Jane and couple! Tell me: was Smithy in character?**_

_**Writing challenge to all who made it thus far: _ and _! Sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!**_

_**That is your writing challenge. You don't have to take it on. But we'll never know what happens if you don't... ;)**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	26. Page 26

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 26)**_

Just as the words passed from Gunther's lips, a furocious roar errupted from above, and our attention was driven upward.

Dragon, covered in flaming tar, crashed into the fountain in the center of the garden, splashing the blazing black goop and water everywhere. A satysfied _sizzle_ sound ushered up from the flames, and Dragon sighed with relief.

"Dragon!" I exclaimed, ripping my hand from Gunther's grasp and dashing toward my reptilian friend, "What in the King's name happened?"

"An _army_ happened!" he spat, rolling up onto his foreclaws and haunches again. He shook himself like a dog, and shards of tar flew from his scales, bouncing and shattering onto the cobble.

Sirs Theodore and Ivon rounded the corner from the training court, and hurried into the garden. I snapped to attention and bowed to them in respect.

"Sirs, Dragon reports-"

"An army." He finished for me, voice laiden with dread, "Dresyl, to be exact."

"Dresyl, Sir?" I inquired, "Was King Phoebis not involved with the three-kingdom Peace Treaty?"

Sir Ivon made a short sound in his throat. "Tha' was King Phoebis III. This upstar' was jus' crowned. Wants a name fer himself." Sir Ivon put his hand to his warhammer, eyes narrowed, "We'll be showin' 'em jus' why his father signed the Treaty in the firs' place..."

"We shall ready our weapons, then, Sir Theodore?" Gunther asked, now up from his one-knee position to stand at attention to impress our instructors. Sir Theodore nodded.

"Gunther, I charge you with gathering the men from the barracks into the training yard." He then turned to me, "Jane, _you_ I charge with the most important mission of all."

I straightened my spine to it's fullest height, and my chest swelled proudly. "Yessir!" The old man looked me in the eye.

"Guard the women and children."

My chest deflated immediately, and a frown fixed on my face. "But, sir-"

"That is an _order_, Jane." he warned me, and I nodded my head reluctantly.

"Yes... sir." I complied tersely, and he gave me a meaningful look.

"I am trusting you, my Squire." he told me, and I bowed respectfully as he turned, handing out the _really _important jobs to other people.

Finally something exciting happens around here, and Jane Turnkey gets the least glorious one. What was all of her training with a sword good for when she'd have to babysit lords and ladies like the Lady-in-Waiting she was fated to become anyway?

Dragon, still partially covered in tar, swooped into the air to cut through the soldiers with dragon breath at the battle front, only miles away, and I turned to begin gathering the citizens of the castle from their chambers and into the dungeon, but a gloved hand closed around mine before I could continue readying to complete my charge.

I turned to look into the clear-as-water eyes of Smithy, who had been standing there, listening to Sir Theodore the whole time. He tightened his lips into a terse smile, trying to conceal the worry on his own face, and squeezed my hand.

"I will help you with this task," he told me, and something, an understanding, passed between us. I came closer to him and pressed a kiss into the corner of his lips. I broke away, and started toward a group of panicking ladies of the court in the corner of the throneroom. Smithy stood still for only a moment before getting to work on a couple of castle brats trying to sneak out to see the Kippernia Knights gather in the yard from the barracks.

I dispised the job I was assigned...

But the presence of a good friend made it all the better.

The End...?

**_A/N: Whaaaa! :D If you follow my stories, you may recognize some references here to Tales of a Darkened Heart... Slight spoilers for that story here... I really must get back to writing it... But anywho!_**

**_Whaaaaah... I need to pay off my school bill. Pray for me? Thanks!_**

**_Love,_**

**_Stor-E-Phool_**


	27. Page 27

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 27)**_

I casually picked some invisible lint from my arm, looking every direction but Rake's, then slowly made my way through the maze of long tables to stand next to the lanky man. His brunette hair was wind-tossed and messy as usual as he gazed out into the garden he had always tended, watching the blacksmith pluck the Flower that the gardener had cared for so dearly for so long.

"Are you okay, Rake?" I asked, voice more of a whisper than I had intended for it to be, and he turned his glassy eyes, fringed with unshed tears, to mine.

"Yeah," He answered softly, suddenly looking away from me. I heard him sniffle a little, and my heart swelled with emotion. I yearned to hug this sensitive soul, pat his shoulder, stroke his hair. Comfort him. Dry his tears with a kiss.

"Do you... do you need to talk?" I asked, and he shook his head. Bringing his puppy-dog eyes to my face, he gazed at me for what felt like an eternity. Not for the first time, I noticed the angle of his profile, especially the slope and dip of his nose, and my eyes traced the delicate curve of his heart-shaped upperlip. His face shape was narrow, and one could only just make out the shape of his cheekbones in the bright morning light.

His body was slim and long, much like the stem of a plant, and his hair poked off in different, haphazard directions, resembling the leaves of a tree. His hands, I noticed, were thin, and his fingers were long and nimble. Smudges of dirt decorated his tanned skin, and his white, billowy sleeves were rolled to the elbow, revealing sculpted forearms from weilding plows and pushing barrows for years.

Yet, inside of this strong man was a tender heart. I could picture children cradled in the crook of his elbow and clinging to his back like a monkey. I could see him teaching a son the true meaning of strength. I could see him whispering secrets in my ear in front of a fireplace, holding me close...

I came to myself with a jolt, and ripped my gaze from his. What was I thinking? Children. I was to become a Lady Knight! I had no business with dreaming like a little girl. I, Jane Turnkey, would never, ever, settle down for long enough to raise...

Suddenly, long, slim fingers closed gently around my hand and I brought my startled gaze back to the gardener.

"Jane..." He murmured, his eyes shimmering, "...am I ugly?"

I stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide as a dragon's. Did I hear him right?

"Ug... ugly?" I whispered...

**_A. You're not that bad looking! ...(pg. 29)_**

_**B. Not everyone can be as attractive as Jester! ...(pg. 30)**_

_**C. Sway back and forth ...(pg.31)**_


	28. Page 28

Choose Your Own Romance

_**pg. 28)**_

Sighing, I put my hand thoughtfully to my sword hilt, then, gasping, realized the weapon was no longer dangling at my hip. Shocked, I turned full-circle to spot Prince Cuthbert examining Dragon's blade where he sat, over on the King's throne.

"Prince Cuthbert!" I cried in surprise and anger, and I began to dash toward the platform. Nearby the young boy played his sister, Lavinia, as she practiced her dancing, and horrible visions of possible accidents swirled through my mind as she twisted and spun haphazardly around her brother. "Your Little Majesties..." I said in a warning tone as I neared them, and Lavinia spun toward me excitedly.

"Jane, Jane!" she squealed, "Just watch what I can do!" She began to twirl in a rapidly-moving circle, kicking her foot high in the air,until it came in contact with the back of her brother's head. Cuthbert lurched forward, losing grip on the sword in his hands, the blade flashing as it sailed through the air, and, growling, shoved the princess to the ground in revenge.

"Your... your Majesties..." I wheezed, looking in horror at the blade impaled directly through my stomach. My arms shook and my shocked abdomen muscles convulsed violently, forcing me to fold in half and fall to my knees.

"JANE!" I heard screams throughout the hall, sounding as if they were reaching my ears through a wall of water. Blurry faces entered and exited my vision, frowns of anguish and worry reflecting down on me, and I found I was having trouble drawing breaths through the pain that was, quite literally, slicing through my gut.

Finally, that face I was most fond of entered my vision, and a little of the physical pain ebbed away. Emotional pain took its place as I felt his tears falling on my cheeks and lips. He was shouting something to me that must have been extremely important, but I could not hear a syllable. Instead, with incredible effort, I lifted my hand to wipe his wet cheeks, and I closed my eyes with a smile, trying to show him that he should not be afraid.

I hope he was in love with me, too.

The End!

_**A/N: The END! The end. Wow, the END!**_

_**Who do you think it was she was in love with? Hmm? I wonder, too. Could have been ANYone... ;)**_

_**Why is it so easy for me to kill Jane, do you suppose? :0 I love the girl, for heaven's sakes! But I kill her in several horrible ways, don't I?**_

_**Love**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	29. Page 29

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 29)**_

I swallowed and my cheeks became flush. I couldn't look away from his chocolate eyes. The golden light of the sun danced, shimmering, in his brown strands, and I felt like I could barely breathe.

"I... I do not think you are ugly," I answered, "In... in fact I find you... I find you quite, um... dashing!" My mind was having a seizure. What was I saying? What had gotten into me? Dashing? He _was_ dashing, of course, but how terribly improper to tell him so-

Suddenly, I found his narrow chest closer than before, and, mind still swirling, I stared stupidly up into his eyes, and quite lost myself. I grasped his well-built forearm and pulled him gently down and forward. He very tall, so I pulled him down quite a ways before I pressed my mouth to his.

Alarmingly, my mouth was still open, agape from my staring up at his face like some giant fish, and my mouth responded to his lips as if kissing were not at all an alien territory for them. To my utter shock, my tongue seemed to know what it was doing when it relaxed itself and licked at Rakes closed lips.

He immediately opened his mouth, too, and I found myself tasting something sweet and rough with my tongue tip. I felt his long fingers unwind from mine, and he rested his hands on my hips. I panicked. I was supposed to do something with my hands? I had not thought this far... what to do?

Hesitantly, as my tongue and his made friends, I placed my hands on his abdomen, regretfully not knowing what else to do with them, and I immediately felt his stomach flex. My eyes flew open at the sudden movement, then fluttered shut again as he licked the roof of my mouth. Was kissing always this _good_?

I felt my lungs begging for air, and thought about inhaling with my nose, but thought that might be an odd thing to do during a kiss. When I imagined kissing, I hadn't thought about the breathing part being a problem...

Luckily, the gardener broke the kiss to take a breath, and I stared up at him like a mouse being cornered by a tomcat, seeing him in a whole different light. His shoulders were rounded, his chest heaved with his each breath, and my fingers sensed the contours of a hardened pack of abs rippling beneath his shirt.

He was... _very_ un-ugly.

"R...Rake...?" I whispered, and I felt his crushing arms encircle me in a firm hug. I returned the squeeze as tightly as I could, and my mind still swirled.

"I... I have liked you for a long time, you know," He said, and I could hear tears forming in his throat once again, "I have... I have wanted to tell you..."

I kissed his shoulder, and I felt teardrops in my hair. Such a tender heart. A strong heart. The heart of a real man.

We stayed for a long time like that, just holding on to eachother, and parted with a sweet, chaste kiss. A final squeeze of our hands promised many more kisses were soon to come.

The End!

_**A/N:This was not as amazing on paper as in my head. I promise.**_

_**Also, this was my first detailed kiss! :0 Yay me! I've never kissed anyone. Just read about it... I plan on saving my kisses for my wedding day! :D But yeah. Let me know how it was. Did you feel like you were part of the story? Choose Your Own Adventures are a difficult breed. Let me know how you felt!**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	30. Page 30

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 30)**_

As soon as the sarcastic remark left my lips, I longed to reel them back in, because, just as they escaped, I heard bells passing through the arch that let out into the garden directly behind me. A horrified expression froze on my face, and I turned to stare wide-eyed into the face of the juggling jokester himself.

He seemed equally surprised, if not pleased, at my comment, and a questioning crook of his brow and a smug tilt of his lips brought color to my face and a quickened pace to my heart.

"Jester, I-" I began, in a panic, but the blue-clad man's face broke into a grin, and he stole quickly away, toward the library.

I stood there, in a dilemma. Save myself from embarrassment, or abandon Rake in his time of need? I glanced toward the gardener, but he was already being lead down a corridor by the queen, to my shock. She seemed to be consoling the boy, and I did not chance asking.

I took off at a run after the Fool, sprinting past lords and ladies and servants in the halls. Cackling, from a gypsy drunk on his own inflated ego, could be heard reverberating through the castle and I pushed myself even harder in my run. I had absolutely no idea what he was planning on doing with what I had said, but it was certainly going to his head, and must be set right!

I dashed past the Butlery and arrived at the heavy wooden doors of the Library and Royal Archives, and pushed against the doors desparately, feeling the weight of a man about Jester's size holding them shut.

"Jester, you Fool!" I cried, hitting the wood with the meat of my fist in frusteration, "Let. Me. In!"

"I am terribly sorry, but the supremely hansome and winsome court juggler is out at the moment-may I take a message for you?" He laughed, and I beat my fists against the doors again.

"You will not be quite so charming with me when I get through straightening you out!" I warned, and more cackling could be heard from behind the door.

"So you admit I am charming? As well as dashing? And talanted? And-"

"-and _incoragible_!" I finished for him with a snarl, "Come out of the Library, or... or ELSE-" I stopped short as I fumed, trying to think of what I might do to him. After a moment of silence, the door cracked open, and Jester poked his long nose out into the hallway, grey eyes twinkling.

"Or else...?" he teased, "You know that is a truly terrifying threat, Jane."

"_Oooh_!" I growled, and pushed the doors open, poking the joker in the side, where I had discovered years ago he had a ticklish spot. He writhed away from my fingertips, and I continuued my attack on his ribcage until he rolled to the foor, laughing. "Or else I will... I will..." I pinched him behind the knee as he covered his ticklish sides, and he shrank away from me, his side now partially uncovered.

I dove for his ribcage, pinning his legs down with my shins as I held him in place with my knees. Every time I poked his sides, his abdomen would convulse and I would pin him down a good deal more. Finally, a short time later, I had his arms pinned down at the level of his eyes with my hands.

"Or... or else I will..." I whispered, "...do _this_..." With a swift motion, I closed the narrow gap between our faces with my mouth, and pulled away from him in almost a questioning way, loosening my grip on his arms as he lifted his hands to pull my face back to his lips, kissing me deeper than I had kissed him.

When we parted, I found myself unable to do anything but stare at him. He looked up at me with a soft-eyed smirk, and he gently pressed his lips into my forehead. It was then I realized I was still pinning him, and I immediately came to myself, rolling off of his torso.

"I, I, uh..." I tried to make some excuse for my behavior, but I came up blank. "Err..." I finished eloquently, and all he was doing was grinning like a Fool. For once he was wordless, and all he said he said with his winking grey eyes. Laying a kiss in my hair, he lept up and left me in the Library, sitting crosslegged on the floor.

He is not THAT attractive.

I smiled to myself.

The End!

_**A/N: Yeah. I know what you're going to say before you even say it: it reminded you of... **_**The Lion King, _right?_**

_**IIII'm sorryyyyy! I didn't mean for that to happen, all the rolling around on the floor and kissing and tickling... originally they were just going to walk figuritively off into the sunset, headed for a stroll about the Royal Garden. But you know how muses are. They run off.**_

_**And I must give chase! :0**_

_**How did you enjoy it? Good? Bad? Disney-ish? Let me know!**_

_**Love,**_

_**Stor-E-Phool**_


	31. Page 31

Choose Your Own Romance

_**(pg. 31)**_

At the odd question, I found my knees a bit spongy, and shifted from foot to foot, keeping my eyes to the cobblestones. Ugly? He wasn't _ugly_, par se`... His nose was a little large, but no larger than Jester's, and his pinchy-looking lips might qualify as unappealing to some. His hair only had three clumps of some sort of dirt or clay in it this morning, and his voice wasn't _too_squeaky, I supposed.

"Err..." I began, stepping back from him a little to give me a better view of him, and squinted at his face. "You are not unattractive, Rake." I told him, and he looked as if that had perked him up a bit. His eyes shone with a puppy-dog-like admiration and my stomach automatically clenched with dread.

"Ah, um, Rake, I really must be leaving now," I said in a near-shout, "Dragon is expecting to meet me for patrol!"

And with that, I took off at a run for the moutain paths, leaving a lovey-dovey delusional gardener behind me.

_**Go to page...(2)**_


	32. A Final Note and bonus chapter

Choose Your Own Romance

_**A final Author's Note:**_

_**Hello, all, and thank you for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed the stories and that the transitions between pages were not too confusing. This has been the longest, most grueling writing project I have ever taken on, and I have to say it has also been the most rewarding. **_

_**You were all stuck with just 16 chapters for the longest time, and I have to appologize for the miscalculation on my part. I did not write each story chronologically, you see, and in order of writing, page 17 was down at the bottom. It has taken all this time due to that fact and procrastination... lol.**_

_**I now have two fics branching off of this story: "Red", and "The Dark Knight". :) Yaaay for random developments!**_

_**Two more totally unrelated upcoming fics: A Harry PotterXJane and the Dragon crossover, and a gathering of one-shots that include every possible pairing in Jane and the Dragon! :D Yaaay!**_

_**Now, since I hesitate to break the rules by having a chapter just for an Author's Note, I have a gift for you: a bonus chapter! **_

**Fun with Pick-up lines**

_By Stor-E-Phool_

The Library air was filled with dust as always as the blue-clad boy searched the shelves for a good read. The afternoon outside was cold, as the winter was at its peak, and the concept of "fun" had been in hibernation all winter. What was there to do in snow but catch your death? So, as there was no one about ready for some fun, the Jester was temporarily out of a job. He figured expanding his already vast mind would not be too much of a waste.

Coming to the end of a shelf of books, the Fool sighed heavily. He had already read every one of these volumes. He dropped down from the sliding ladder and his knees buckled as he made impact with the floor, beckoning a grunt of dissatysfaction from him. That proved it: he needed to work out more. He could not even land on his own two...

_Can't Get the Girl?_

The caption on the spine of the book in front of him suddenly jumped out in his vision. _What...?_ He grabbed the burgundy tome and stared at the cover.

_Mackay's Pocket Wooing Wonder: All the fuel romance needs._

Jester's eyebrows shot up to disappear underneath the hem of his floppy blue hat. "All the fuel romance needs, hmm?" he repeated outloud, and proceeded outside to share with the other guys.

.oO0Oo.

And, with that, Pick-ups run wild in the Kingdom of Kippernium:

"Do you have a map? I'm getting lost in your eyes."-Gunther to Jane.

"If you were a booger I'd pick you first." -Dragon to Jane.

"Excuse me, but does this smell like chloroform to you?" -Sir Theodore to Jane.

"There must be something wrong with my eyes, I can't take them off you." -Gunther to Queen Gwendolynn.

"Your daddy must have been a baker, because you've got a nice set of buns." -Gunther to Pepper as she is taking a loaf of bread from the hearth.

"Your eyes are deep and blue like the ocean. I think I am lost at sea." -Jester to Queen Gwendolynn.

"Ouch! My tooth hurts!" Jester says after trying some of Pepper's baking. Insulted at the jab at her cooking, she swerves around to look at him angrily, wagging a spoon in his face. "Why?" she asks, and he grins. "Because you are soooo sweet!"

Jester and Jane are sitting on a cliff overlooking the Kingdom, and, taking his hand, Jane finally asks Jester about his real name. "My name is... Jane, my name is Doug." She stares at him, and he grins. "That's 'god' spelled backwards with a little bit of "you" wrapped up in it."

"If you stood in front of a mirror and help up 11 roses, you would see 12 of the most beautiful things in the world." -Rake to Jane

"If we shared a garden, I'd put my tulips and your tulips together." -Rake to Pepper.

_**A/N: Haaa... Well, do you have any pickup lines for our heroes?**_


End file.
